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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851024">The Make of a Monster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlumbianChronicler/pseuds/AlumbianChronicler'>AlumbianChronicler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, Literary References &amp; Allusions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:02:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlumbianChronicler/pseuds/AlumbianChronicler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Knight meets a literary "monster."  Sometimes all anyone wants is a listening ear to talk to.</p><p>(Set when Michael was an active Knight.  Obviously.  Not super graphic, but I wanted to be safe just in case.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"You will not hurt her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael heard the words boom through the darkness, followed by a strangled gasp and sickening crunch.  He frowned, Amoracchius held ready as he rounded the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman whimpered in terror, crouched against the alley wall and trying to make herself as small as possible.  Above her loomed a massive shape… no, two shapes. A hulking being, holding a man in the air by his neck. The man dangled limply, the angle of his head and the smell of his loosed bowels telling Michael that he was already dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael readied his sword, eying the creature.  It was roughly proportioned like a man, though at least eight feet tall.  He had dark hair, hanging long around his head. The creature turned, eyes reflecting yellow in what light filtered down the alley from the street as he gazed at Michael.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will not let you hurt her," Michael stated firmly, standing ready for the creature's move.  The terrified woman, spotting him, scrambled toward him, tripping before finally obtaining her feet and running past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature didn't say anything, but simply dropped the man, the body thumping solidly onto the ground, and stepped back, further into the alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael's frown deepened in confusion.  That was not what he expected. He turned his head slightly to check on the woman, but apparently she had continued to run past him and was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his attention back to the creature, who had turned and was walking away, silhouetted against the far end of the alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," Michael said, lowering his sword.  He may have misjudged the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You saved her?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did," came the reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael considered the matter for a moment before speaking.  "You should not have killed him." But his tone was not as harsh as it could have been.  The woman, whoever she was, was safe. He did not know what that man had been attempting, but it could not have been good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You carry a sword," the creature replied, and Michael rather thought there was amusement in his tone, as if being lectured about killing by someone holding a sword was funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For the protection of others," Michael clarified.  "I will not slay those who can be saved."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And yet you stay your sword for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael was intrigued.  This creature… whatever he was, was not his usual encounter.  There was not a sense of evil from him, at least not in the way the Denarians exuded.  He seemed rational enough, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> protected that woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is your name?" He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature didn't turn to face him.  There was a moment of silence, and Michael thought for a moment he would continue on without replying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Adam," the creature finally said.  "And yours?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael knew the danger of telling supernatural beings his name, but he also knew when to trust that honesty was the course to take.  "My name is Michael," he replied. "I am a Knight of the Cross. So long as you do no harm to any others, you have nothing to fear from me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, and finally turned back around.  "You may not seek for me to fear, but can you say I do not instill fear in you?" He walked back toward Michael, stepping over the motionless body between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Adam approached, Michael could make out more of his features.  Though he appeared human enough in form, there was almost a waxiness to him, a pallor of transparency to his skin and a thinness to his lips that seemed nearly corpselike.  And his eyes were the most unnerving. His eyes were yellow, both the sclera and the iris, and reflected light like an animal's.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Michael said after a moment of contemplation.  He sheathed his sword, that ineffable pull of Intuition telling him that he would not need it further for this encounter.  "I fear nothing with my God at my side."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam shook his head in dismissal.  "I have never had reason to believe any God would have anything to do with a wretch such as I, but believe as you will if it comforts you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And what sort of wretch are you?" Michael asked.  There was pain in Adam's response, evoking a history of injustices done.  He would be a liar if he claimed not to be curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam was quiet for a long moment before replying.  "Do you know the tale of Frankenstein?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do."  And the pieces clicked.  "Ahh, I see." Michael frowned slightly, thinking over the events of the story.  "I thought the book ended with the creature's death as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam sighed.  "Perhaps it should have.  If you wouldn't mind, perhaps we can go somewhere less… befouled?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael glanced at the corpse laying behind Adam.  "Let me make a call, and then we'll go somewhere to discuss the matter."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When you want to talk to someone over a beer in Chicago, you go to Mac's.  Such is the law of the Dresden-Verse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What's this?  An update?  Weird.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Michael insisted on waiting for the police to arrive, to make sure a proper statement was made.  Adam didn't protest, but as soon as vehicles started pulling up outside the alley, he stepped away from view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed that the construct had changed his mind, disappearing into the darkness, but once Michael left the scene behind, nearly reaching his truck, quiet footsteps told him of Adam’s return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you know of Macanally's?" Michael asked, as he reached his truck, opening it and placing Amoracchius inside.  He didn't think he was going to need it again tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do," came Adam's reply.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care for a drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pub was within easy walking distance, and so Michael left his truck parked where it was and gestured for Adam to walk beside him as he started down the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brings you to Chicago?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I occasionally come into the city to procure goods I can’t obtain for myself.  I… did not mean to chance upon that scene...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t think anyone would,” Michael commented.  "And yet, you acted when many would have turned the other way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you?” Adam asked after a moment of silence.  “Why the sword?  It isn’t a common weapon nowadays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sword is a tool of my Calling.  I am a Knight of the Cross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller man frowned, glancing over at Michael.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cross?” he echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a... holy man, then?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s question was hesitant, and looking over, Michael could see a tenseness in the other’s manner.  He supposed Adam had found a lot of resistance to his… existence from the Church.  Indeed, if he remembered correctly, the constructed man had initially found more sympathy in the figure of the devil than in any righteous being.  He could only imagine that the scars on his soul matched the ones criss-crossing his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my place to judge,” Michael stated.  “I go where I am Needed, and you are not my adversary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence for another long moment before Adam replied.  "I see."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By now, they had reached the door leading down to Mac’s pub, and Michael gestured Adam to precede him.  The taller man ducked low as he made his way down the steps, and had to continue slouching to keep from hitting the beams crossing the basement space’s ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael approached the bar, pulling out a barstool and gesturing for Adam to sit before pulling out a second one and seating himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam obliged, and smiled slightly at the man behind the bar as he sat.  Mac nodded back, then nodded amiably at Michael before turning away, grabbing two bottles of beer, and placing them before the newcomers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael glanced at Adam after the exchange.  "You've been here before?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam shrugged.  "I have encountered Mac a few times over the years."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Over the… hmm.  Harry would like to hear that story, I'm sure."  Michael smiled at the thought, sure his friend would spend far more time than was practical in trying to figure out just who and what the barkeep was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Harry?  The… wizard?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes."  Michael took a drink of his beer while he regarded Adam for a long moment.  "Do you know him?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>of</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.  I… have not had many interactions with wizards or Wardens since the late 1880s."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something in his tone, an undercurrent of pain that Michael suspected would have a reticence to match if asked to say more about that subject, and so he dropped it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is the book…" Michael paused, searching for the right words, but Adam finished the question for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Accurate?  Yes."  The admission came out in an even tone.  "Including the murders committed by my own hands."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael looked over to see Adam watching him, unnervingly-pale eyes steady but with a wariness Michael had only seen when his children had dared to tell him about some misdeed they wished forgiveness for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam wanted to see the reaction of a Holy Knight to his past sins.  Whether he sought redemption or condemnation, Michael didn't know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Two hundred years and the deeds of your first few years still haunt you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eternally."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael nodded thoughtfully.  "I don't think you'd be any sort of decent person if they didn't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, Adam relaxed slightly, facing forward to take a drink of his own beer as they fell into silence.</span>
</p>
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